I’m going to review some things today because soon I’ll be cajoling folks into reviewing The Brine in Me, so I thought I’d have a go at doing some of that myself. Probably none of these reviews are for things that are very recent, although the film that I’m going to review I only saw two nights ago. I didn’t finish it. We’ll get to that.

Actually, let’s do that now. The film was called The Accountant. It’s about a man who sees spreadsheets. He can also break paper work down into a single speedy montage so the film can get to the showy offy bits where there’s some sort of administrative jujitsu action that our man is clearly a platinum business card holder of. There is a girl as well, but that doesn’t matter because the only rolling around in this film is between the fella and the fellas brother. Colour me disappointed. That said, the second act is keen with narrative details and extreme marker pen use, but I switched it off early and went to bed after the brotherly grappling remained shirted for over a minute. File under, ‘Would have been better with Jason Statham.’Continue reading “In the Blog of my Hand”→

I hold a record! As of last Saturday it is possible that I am the most acupunctured man in England, certainly the most that that particular practitioner has ever used. But then I did tell her to shove them anywhere if it helps. I was in the fallout of a terrible injury to my arm and hand and shoulders following a fallout with my lawnmower as to whether or not it was going to start. It did but my goodness it was angry about it. I’ve actually spent more money in repairing myself from the mower than it cost me to buy that wretched self drive first place. It was too big for the gardening round that was its task. It was too big for its boots. It has been retired.

But I’m back off the bench and my shoulders feel great. Well, they’re alright, but they were great just after all the prickly business. Anna asked me how I felt when she came to pick me up and I said I felt good enough to punch a tree. She told me that she was driving us home. Continue reading “Too Big for its Blogge”→

Brothers, Sisters, Gardeners, and Most of the rest of you… isn’t the weather fabulous? I just very recently finished the final draft of The Brine in Me, so that’s exciting and will very soon be away to the proofers. They’ll be looking for errors, and they’ll be livid if they don’t find any. Luckily I always leave them satisfied. But I want to talk-this-shit real, if that’s correct. I want to go out to the garden. It has been a cussed winter on this island, like the brakes couldn’t be left off, similar to when I’m barrelling down Long Mountain on a Thursday afternoon in my estate car. Perhaps that’s the bigger picture, we could get through winter quicker but we risk puncturing a hedgerow and rolling down to the base of the valley, thus effectively going back into winter as far as your bank account is concerned. But we’re through that, so let’s think about spring.

I’m sorry, I have to interrupt because the screen that I’m writing on has gone a little green. Just now. I’m going to play with the cables, then if that’s not it I’ll have to bugger off for a while so I can get cross and upset. Hold on. Continue reading “At The Gates of Blog”→

So here’s the thing about publishing novels from the independent end of the pier, if you’ll indulge me my understanding of it. You have to recognise that you are not Conor McGregor (Joanne Harris), living it big time all over Las Vegas, then smearing your competition across the floor and heading off with a snow leopard tailored around your shoulders. You’re just some guy (JW Bowe) hanging around the back end of a pub car park looking for a fight, trying to hustle people over and see if they’ll throw some coins down on the disabled parking space where you’ve thrown yours, then get down to it, Roadhouse style.Continue reading “No Holds Blogged”→